


Two- zero- seven

by MINDinINK



Series: Raising Hawkeye [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Coulson, Clint gets kidnapped, Clint is sixteen, Coulson to the rescue, Deaf Clint Barton, Father son relationship, Gift Fic, Hawkeye - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Nick Fury - Freeform, Other, Phil Coulson as Clint‘s dad, Raising Hawkeye Series, Requested Story, Rescue Mission, SHIELD, Sick Clint Barton, Teenagers, They are not a couple, Whump, kickass Coulson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MINDinINK/pseuds/MINDinINK
Summary: Clint gets kidnapped on his way home from school and is taken far away before it‘s noticed that he has been taken. Search begins while Clint struggles with his keeper.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: Raising Hawkeye [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872529
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	1. Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [planetaen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetaen/gifts).



> A while ago Planetaen requested something where Clint gets kidnapped. So yeah, here we go. 
> 
> This is as always not beta-ed. If anyone wants to help me with corrections before posting, please let me know. English is not my first language.

The taste of blood never meant anything good. Especially not in combination with a splitting headache and the inability to see.

He bit his lip trying to prevent any sound from slipping across his lips. His eyes watered with the sharp pain in his neck. Although his eyes were covered, he could feel the spinning sensation in his head. He muttered a curse under his breath, trying to sit straight and breathe through the pain dizziness.

Focus.

He had to fucking remember what had happened. 

He could hear the faint sound of dripping water. The air smelled stale, but also dusty and thick as if the room hadn‘t been aired out in God knew how long. Otherwise it was dead silent, nothing more to recognize to maybe clue together where he was. So he started to take stock of himself. 

Hearing aids still there and functioning. His Neck and head hurt all the way down to in between his shoulders. His arms were bound behind his back, the metal that had been used to do so rattling at every small movement. His legs, also secured to the chair, were dully throbbing all around his knees, the handcuffs around his ankles cutting into his skin. The chair creaked at every small shift of his body. 

He shuddered.

Fuck. It was cold. It hit him like a freight train, caused him to shiver again. Not a big surprise when, by the feeling of it, he had only been left in his jeans and shirt and barefoot. In goddamn November!

He tried for a more comfortable position on the chair, only to learn that the cuffs around his wrist were equally tight like those around his ankles. He was almost sure to have even been secured around his waist. Great. Abso-fucking-lutely great. There was no way out of this, unless he would try to-

Floorboards creaked. Steps approached. A door opened with a high pitched sound of old rusty angles forced into motion. The sound made him grit his teeth. His top notch hearing aids were too sensitive and his head hurting too much to not react. At least he still had his senses together enough to notice the not present echo of the sound, before shivering violently in the rush of cold wind that blew in. 

Forest or wide area property, his mind put together. That meant they were most likely outside of the city and running away without shoes would be a pain in the ass. Heavy steps of a pair of boots approached after the door was closed. His body tensed head to toe when the steps stopped right in front of him. A tight, almost painful grip on his chin next second, threatened to trigger his rebellious streak. He knew better. As long as he had no idea who had taken him, cooperation was the better option.

He had to remember what had happened, but his mind pulled a total blank on that. Together with the pain in his head, there was only once conclusion- concussion. Most likely. Fuck.

There were only seconds before something touched his lips. In first instinct he wanted to turn his head away, but the grip on his chin was like iron. The hand felt dry, hot and fucking  _ huge.  _ Suddenly a liquid hit his lips. He wanted to squeeze them shut. Being given water or any other drink or food in captivity was always a risk. One never knew if it contained any drugs or poison. 

He was left no chance for disobedience. His head was forcefully leaned back, jaws forced open. His neck and head protested, his lips opened in a painful sound and water flooded his mouth. . He swallowed in shock. Once. Twice. Then the forceful steady stream overwhelmed him and he broke into harsh coughing as the liquid went down the wrong way. The hand let go and he slumped forward in a fit of spluttering coughs. He strained against the handcuffs, still feeling the presence of the person right next to him. He was left with a stale taste in his mouth, but at least he couldn‘t detect any bitterness or sharp sting left behind. There was nothing that could have indicated anything being mixed into the water. It just started stale and old.

Finally done coughing, he was pressed back into a more upright position by the stranger again. Less than a minute later he was left alone again after the door had creaked open and shut once more. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears and his shirt, now cold and wet from the spilled water, clung to his body uncomfortably. He probably had about an hour left, before the chills would get permanent and a few more hours before he went into hypothermia. 

He had to get off this fucking chair! If only his head would have been more cooperative. Every goddamn thought hurt, his mind working at the speed of cold honey trying to flow off a spoon. Taking a deep breath he pulled himself together to work on a plan. He had been trained for this, for heaven‘s sake! It had been one of the first trainings Coulson had insisted on. There was always a way out, he only had to find out. 

And remember. He had to fucking  _ remember  _ what had happened !!


	2. Missed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I‘m blown away by your support, kudos, comments and bookmarks. I a glad you liked that first short chapter. Here we go with Chapter 2. The chapters will probably all be quite small, but I hope to update more frequently that way.   
> Still looking for a beta reader.

„When was he supposed to be in?“

„25 minutes ago, given the twenty minutes extra time frame because of his long school hours on wednesdays. He hasn‘t checked in or been seen by any SHIELD associated person since he had been dropped off in the morning“

Coulson rose from his chair, already heading for the door. Young Clint Barton was a rebel by nature, sometimes got caught up in other things and ran behind schedule now and then, but he always sent at least a message to let his mentor know about it. They had established the rule very early and Clint disliked the consequences of breaking it just enough to follow it. 

„He‘s supposed to get picked up after school, how has he not been seen since the morning?“

„The agent who brought him to school this morning reported also having taken his bicycle to the school grounds. Agent Barton dismissed him from pick up duty after school“

Right. Given the fact that the school wasn’t even two miles away from their house, he had agreed to his request of going home by bike. He had explained it with needing some alone time after being with kids around him all day. He had used the words being locked up at school. With a traceable phone on him and the trust he had earned over the past years, he had agreed. Right at that moment he wished he hadn’t. Coulson made his way down the hallway with long strides, took the stairs instead of the elevator and went straight for Fury‘s office. His gut feeling had never betrayed him when it came to their youngest special agent in training. Right there and then he felt downright sick. 

„Agent Coulson, are you still there?“

„I want two agents to check on the house. Send Sanchez and Wong. He knows them and won‘t hurt them in case they run into each other. Send me a status report as soon as they arrive“

With that he hung up and burst into the director‘s office without knocking less than two minutes later. Fury stood behind his desk and just put the phone down with a raised brow. Whatever it was that he obviously disapproved of, Coulson didn‘t care much about it. 

„Your kid is off the radar I hear?“

Now it was Coulson‘s turn to raise a brow. Clint being called his kid was a habit a lot of people had taken on. That wasn‘t what surprised him, but apparently his absence was raising concern in more people than just him. 

„I got called when he didn‘t turn up for his 5pm training even after his twenty minute frame. Calling his school I was informed he attended all classes and left after a shrt talk with his history teacher at about 3.30pm. On his bike, with nothing but his school bag and clothes on him. He‘s not picking up his phone. How high is the chance this is the runaway scenario we‘ve been waiting for?“

„Zero“ It shot out of his mouth without a second of hesitation. Coulson pulled his private phone out and flipped through the messages, opening the last ones he had received from Clint. He handed the phone over to Fury, who scanned over the short texts.

„Last time stamp is from 2.40pm, before his last class of the day. He usually takes the fastest way home, eats and gets his training bag before coming to HQ. He should have been home by 3.45pm and at SHIELD not more than an hour later. Sanchez and Wong are being sent over to check on the house. If he‘s not there, I am going to ping his phone“

Something significant must have happened. The evening of Clint‘s 16th birthday party at their house, he and the teenager had had a heart to heart talk. For the first time Clint had admitted to being happy enough with his life to have abandoned all thoughts of running from where he was. After years of uncertainty, ups and downs and days of misery and despair, he had a home. On their best days he even called Phil Coulson dad.

He hadn‘t run.

Fury only shook his head in answer, crossed his arms to give him a look.

„We ping it now, while we already have two agents on the way“

He sat down and opened the laptop that had been sitting closed on his desk. A few clicks and a thumbprint scan later, he turned the screen towards Coulson. There was a single pop up window with the spaces to insert an agent ID and a password, along with the phone number to ping. Although all alarm bells were ringing in his head already, he hesitated for a moment. Clint trusted him and if he invaded his privacy for something as simple as a timeout after school, their relationship would suffer again.

Which brought them back to his bad gut feeling. It was becoming overwhelming by that point. 

With a sigh he leaned in and typed the demanded numbers into the program. The search page appeared and seemingly endless seconds passed by until the pinging point started to narrow down an area on the map. He held his breath and stared at the point for a moment. It wasn‘t moving, not even located close to their neighborhood. He already had his phone out a few heartbeats later, dialing Maria Hill‘s number.

„I‘m sending you coordinates. Redirect Sanchez and Wong there. We got a two zero seven. I‘m checking the house. Roger that. I see you there“

Fury reached for the laptop, tone still holding doubt.

„What makes you so sure about a 207?“

Coulson turned the laptop to him before he could do it and zoomed out of the map until it was easier to tell where the ping had landed.

„Unless he grew some wings, there‘s no way he made it all the way out to Greenwood Lake on his bike within the two hour time frame he had. His phone isn‘t moving, it‘s November and it‘s far from any road. Unless he forgot that his phone traceable with satellite support and he all of a sudden decided not to hate the cold anymore-„

He was cut off when Fury gestured with his hand, having heard enough. He reached for his phone once more and while his eyes stayed on Coulson, he waited for the person on the other end of the line to pick up.

„This is Director Fury. We have a two zero seven on junior special agent Clinton Francis Barton, field name Hawkeye. I need immediate permission for the agents Philipp Coulson and MAria Hill to recover and extract agent Barton under regulation of 6b-c. The agents Sanchez and Wong will be needed on standby for possible re-enforcement“

Now it was Coulson‘s turn to raise his brows, eyes going wide. Regulation 6b-c basically meant a law breaking investigation in benefit of keeping the agency‘s secrecy and national security, with the only remaining rule of not hurting uninvolved civilians or country property. A mostly blank card to justify any means and action.

„Yes, I am aware of that. Yes, I am convinced his value to us and others justifies the level of intervention. Yes, I will make sure they are aware of it. Thank you very much“

He placed the phone down with a grim expression, never even once breaking the eye contact between them .

„You have 48h under Lehtinen's protection to find your boy“

Phil COulson had expected a lot, as he knew secretly Fury liked Clint more than he let on, but dialing the president of the security council had not been on the list. It didn‘t need Fury‘s command on trying to keep a low profile despite their allowances, but he nodded anyway. By the time he left Fury‘s office, he was already mentally listing anybody with a possible benefit in Clint‘s abduction. Whoever had dared to put their hands on his boy would regret it, if they had known who he was or not. They would find him and it would happen far before the 48h would be up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Every bit of support makes me happy.   
> Stay healthy, stay safe, have a good week!

**Author's Note:**

> Short for now. More coming soon. Thanks for reading :D


End file.
